So today had some pretty interesting parts. I asked another patient what he did before he became an inmate here, and he said he was a systems analyst. Since I was like "Uh?", it turns out that that actually means computer programmer! (maybe that was -my- official title) After he told me which programming languages he worked in, I was like "Oh yeah! COBOL & Fortran! I learned about those in my history of computing class!" (he wrote code 40 years ago then moved on)
So then I asked if he was trying to get back into it, and he said a key thing: he's really here to learn what his strengths are NOW. That rings SO TRUE. Good point indeed. It's so odd that I've known for MONTHS that's what they do here, and it never truly sank in until he said that. They're finding out what I'm good at NOW-- forget my schooling & training (since I partly have). I told my "success coach" this afternoon that I actually feel kinda lucky to be here. I mean, where else would you have a whole center full of trained professionals learning about you in order to recommend career paths that you might enjoy? I'm feeling now like every college freshman should get into a car wreck and go through a program like this one!
So I predict that they let me graduate early with a certificate that says "Strengths: handsome, humorous, witty. Recommend mini-golf as your day job, stand-up comic & gigolo as extra-income activities. Highly recommend ensuring only happily married women are around when you take off your shirt at the pool." (I'm ONLY KIDDING... I'm not 100% full of myself; last count was at 99.999%)
I forget if I've blogged the amazing juggler before, so in case I haven't:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4776181634656145640&ei=f1XRSbnjKqC0rQLGo9HbBA&q=juggle
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Vocational Rehab, day #4
Okay, so Voc. Rehab's finally getting out of "hello, nice to meet you"-mode and into actual activities. Highlight of the day is that I began a heart-to-heart conversation with my "success coach" about my total confusion regarding what kind of vocation I even want. Yes, I just said yesterday that I'm here to get into programmer-retraining school. Maybe. I don't know. I'm so confused. It's been pointed out (both by my last boss and my success coach here) that there are multiple paths that involve a mental challenge. I hope my time here will be spent exploring what those paths ARE. I'm just hoping that they say "Surprisingly, there is a ton of mental challenge involved in being a gigolo."
And this is TOO COOL: Google Voice. You can click that link and click on "Get an Invite" for when the service opens. It basically means that you'll only ever have ONE phone number for life, not separate work phone (that changes if/when you change jobs), home phone (that changes if/when you move), & cell phone numbers. And which phone of yours rings could depend on the time of day, who's calling, or maybe other rules you set up. And it's going to have a TON of other features, including the first-ever free (I think) conference calls. Even if you're not a geek like moi, click here to check it out!
And this is TOO COOL: Google Voice. You can click that link and click on "Get an Invite" for when the service opens. It basically means that you'll only ever have ONE phone number for life, not separate work phone (that changes if/when you change jobs), home phone (that changes if/when you move), & cell phone numbers. And which phone of yours rings could depend on the time of day, who's calling, or maybe other rules you set up. And it's going to have a TON of other features, including the first-ever free (I think) conference calls. Even if you're not a geek like moi, click here to check it out!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Vocational Rehab, day #3
Today I actually got to DO stuff, meaning the pool & the gym, after taking a math test... that a 3rd grader would have aced. And earlier we had an hour-long class called "brain injury 101." Um, HELLOOOOO, I've only had two YEARS of learning all about them. Shouldn't WE be teaching YOU? Isn't experience the best teacher?
There is a computer-retraining school later this year here that retrains programmers and you need to go through this Basic Training to get into it. So yes, I do very much want to re-become a software geek. I'm proving that every day by going through this "I've already graduated this therapy 6 months ago" h*ll-program.
I know I want to re-become a software geek because for the 3 weeks before I came here, on Tues. & Thurs., I went to the "work floor" before speech therapy. The work floor was the most menial labor kind of work-- I had a job (putting together Thermos lids) that had TWO steps, so that was fixed next time I came back to have someone else do the second step. OH, thank you thank you thank you. I can't tell you how taxing it was to do BOTH steps. And don't even get me started about doing them in the proper order. So I guess I like jobs that involve thought-- who knew. And I guess I shouldn't call what I did there a "job." Since I live an hour away from the work floor, I only made it in 2 half-days a week. And you only actually get paid if you are there 40 hours a week. So not so much on the "job", more on the "volunteering for this abuse".
Good news is that going to the gym most days a week might let me leave here ripped. OK, if not ripped, at least slightly torn. Geez, if not torn, then ruffled by a breeze. A strong breeze. Ok, if not a breeze-- WILL YOU GET OFF MY BACK?!?
Updates may be sparse from here on in. Just assume it's incredibly basic therapies and yes, it sucks.
There is a computer-retraining school later this year here that retrains programmers and you need to go through this Basic Training to get into it. So yes, I do very much want to re-become a software geek. I'm proving that every day by going through this "I've already graduated this therapy 6 months ago" h*ll-program.
I know I want to re-become a software geek because for the 3 weeks before I came here, on Tues. & Thurs., I went to the "work floor" before speech therapy. The work floor was the most menial labor kind of work-- I had a job (putting together Thermos lids) that had TWO steps, so that was fixed next time I came back to have someone else do the second step. OH, thank you thank you thank you. I can't tell you how taxing it was to do BOTH steps. And don't even get me started about doing them in the proper order. So I guess I like jobs that involve thought-- who knew. And I guess I shouldn't call what I did there a "job." Since I live an hour away from the work floor, I only made it in 2 half-days a week. And you only actually get paid if you are there 40 hours a week. So not so much on the "job", more on the "volunteering for this abuse".
Good news is that going to the gym most days a week might let me leave here ripped. OK, if not ripped, at least slightly torn. Geez, if not torn, then ruffled by a breeze. A strong breeze. Ok, if not a breeze-- WILL YOU GET OFF MY BACK?!?
Updates may be sparse from here on in. Just assume it's incredibly basic therapies and yes, it sucks.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Vocational Rehab, day #1
Greetings from Lexington. I'm at the Vocational Rehab center here for 5 weeks. Today was day 1, and nothing really to report. It was Orientation followed by a break, followed by Orientation, followed by lunch, followed by Orientation, followed by a break, followed by Orientation. Okay, got it... THAT is over THERE. Color me Crayola Oriented.
Monday, March 16, 2009
stitches are out
That skiing fall-on-the-pole episode ended up in a few sutures INCREDIBLY close to my eye. But after just 7 days, I just got 'em taken out just fine. And all was well and just with the world, just so (I just randomly wanted to see how many times I could work in the word 'just'... 6). And there were some dried scabs nobody but a doctor was touching, and those are gone too. So I'm looking "normal" again. (or as normal as I CAN look while I'm on leave from being the star exhibit in the circus's Wild And Crazy Danger Seekers show-- I do miss the part where my head goes in the gator's mouth while I put it to sleep by singing slow Jimmy Buffett tunes though (I still sing myself to sleep, "...on a slooow boat to China...")).
[wow, how was THAT for a trip down Random Lane?... TBIs can be fun... well, OK, you can at least make TBIs "interesting"]
Now, the doctor said there may not be any scarring, and I was like "Ah, MAN! How are you ever gonna become a feared pirate sailor without at least SOME facial scars?" Looks like I gotta take up juggling knives pretty high while on a moving sidewalk with one eye closed again.
[wow, how was THAT for a trip down Random Lane?... TBIs can be fun... well, OK, you can at least make TBIs "interesting"]
Now, the doctor said there may not be any scarring, and I was like "Ah, MAN! How are you ever gonna become a feared pirate sailor without at least SOME facial scars?" Looks like I gotta take up juggling knives pretty high while on a moving sidewalk with one eye closed again.
Friday, March 13, 2009
if I survive this week & speech
First off, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!
So there was my attempted-ski-pole-through-eye incident on Monday & eye docs Tuesday, so Wednesday was supposed to be a fun day: walking Humane Society dogs. So I went to the local chapter, in a brand-new building, and walked the 1st dog absolutely fine. The 2nd dog I took out went with me to a small field, where he found some trash paper that he started gnawing on. So I pulled him away, and when he'd been out and about for a while, on the way back in I stopped to get the paper to throw it away. LIFE LESSON KIDS: papers in fields might be hiding MASSIVE amounts of fire-ants. Luckily mom was still in the parking lot & heard my yells. Very luckily, she carries Benadryl in her purse. 2 days later, my arm is beginning to look normal again.
So this morning I did something I've been looking forward to for many months. We drove back up to where I grew up, Asheville, to go to my high school, Carolina Day School. There, I delivered this speech to the senior class:
"Hi guys & gals. You're probably either glad I'm taking up some class time or you're mad I'm taking up your free time. Either way, it'll be less than 20 minutes, so tough it out. Whoops, PLEASE tough it out.
1st off, let me say that I know my ability to speak clearly isn't fully back yet, so I'm going to try and slow down. I've come from a coma to bring this message to you and the brain injury that caused the coma is affecting my speech.
My name is Jeff Knox. I went to school here, from 6th grade in '91 to 12th grade in '97. For those of you doing the math, yes, I am that old. I had some of the same teachers, and Mama Gouge was ours as well. Well, I didn't go to school HERE... this building didn't exist way back in my prehistoric day. What is now your middle school is where I went to high school.
I'm here to talk to you about prom night specifically, but the lesson applies anytime. So the big dance of the year is coming up-- prom. Maybe you're gonna go, maybe you're not. The young adults who do go may want a little more partying before or afterward, or just decide the only way this can even BE fun is to not be totally sober while they're at the function. The young adults who don't go may decide a dance with a bottle of something is the best prom date anyone could ever have.
So I'm talking about alcohol. True, none of y'all are of legal age to buy it or drink it, but does that stop you? Did it stop us? I can only assume it didn't since I don't remember. I'm not here to be the policeman saying "Don't drink alcohol, o ye not of age." I'm also, for the record, not in any way encouraging it's use, and you can take that to the principal. I'm just going to make a wild and crazy assumption that someone here is going to consume alcohol. It may be prom night, it may be 30 years from now. I'm not here to say alcohol's bad and you will immediately die from consumption. I've done it. I'm also not saying it's good. It is what it is.
What I am here to say is that IF YOU DO drink even some alcohol, or even know of someone who does, alright, so you or them is on the way to being drunk. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you even consider letting someone who's had alcohol drive a car, be it you or somebody else. Even if the person only had a bare smidgen of alcohol, this applies. I'm willing to bet that a jail cell isn't as fun as being at prom night, or at home, or heck, as fun as spending the night at CDS.
Now let me tell you why I feel so strongly against drunk driving. In May of '07, I was out at a bar with one of my roommates and some poker buddies. Lo and behold, my roommate got drunk beyond belief. Now, the problem was, she had driven herself to the bar after work. So she rode back to our house that night in my car. I would not have driven if I'd had any alcoholic drinks.
Okay, I have no memory of what happened next, so I'll stick to the facts that I've learned since. We hadn't been home from the bar long at all when my roommate decided she wanted to go somewhere. It was about 1 in the morning. I was inside the house and next thing I know, I heard a pickup truck starting in the driveway-- her boyfriend had left his truck there. I knew for a fact that she was drunk, so I stepped out front to see what was going on. She had decided to go somewhere else-- probably another bar, but we'll never know. She was in the truck's driver's seat when I went to the side of the truck and I opened the door and tried to talk her out of drunk driving. I didn't notice that she had already shifted the gear into "reverse."
So as I was talking to her, her foot drunkenly slipped from it's resting place and slammed down onto the gas pedal. Since the truck was in reverse gear, the truck went flying backwards. Remember the part of this story where I said I stood beside the open car door talking her out of driving? The door knocked me down so hard onto the ground that the skull impact immediately started a 5-week coma where the doctors told my parents that I had a 90% chance of dying. The wreck caused a collapsed lung, multiple facial fractures, including a broken jaw, broken cheek, broken eye socket & damage to my right eye. That skull fracture caused a Traumatic Brain Injury. The Traumatic Brain Injury caused speech problems & double vision & memory problems so severe that I don't remember much from my 27 years before the wreck happened. Imagine going off to college, then living on your own for 10 YEARS-- you might like your parents but it would be so sweet to not live there-- and then going back to being dependent on your parents.
But I am here now, luck of all luck! Therapy's not over, and it's been almost 2 years! I have had countless numbers of speech, arm strength, and physical therapists, among others. I had to re-learn how to walk. I didn't know how old I was-- I thought I was over 100. I didn't even know who my parents were. I've forgotten most things I learned in college-- and I studied computer science in school and had a job as a computer programmer, and how much of that do you think I remember? VERY LITTLE. Even basic math, like division, that I learned here, I had to re-learn. I haven't gotten my driver's license back yet. This is the first time in my life I've worn glasses.
So now you know why I want you to think about this. If you drive drunk, you're risking jail-time and worse. How much worse? My freshman college roommate Greg was only my roommate for about 3 months. Then he was driving around town with some friends when a drunk driver hit their car head-on. Greg's body broke through a seat-belt and he slammed his forehead into the windshield. He went immediately into a coma that lasted for months. I visited his house in 2008. Well, his parents' house-- he is not able to live alone. And he requires a personal assistant. His personal assistant has to help Greg use the bathroom. And this has been going on now for 10 years.
So what's the moral of this story? It is not to never have alcohol. When you're of age, have some responsibly if you wish, and I do emphasize RESPONSIBLY. All I need for you to take from this is that you'll NEVER combine alcohol and driving. My only motive in talking to you now is that I don't want what happened to Greg & I to happen to anyone else-- and I am just lucky to even be able to give this talk, many aren't. I am available for questions from y'all now but for private questions, I'll be around for a short while, and some teachers will know my email address, just ask around. There is no such thing as a bad question. Thank you for your time."
It went smoothly (whew) and was well received. So we'll never know, but let's just hope they were listening.
So there was my attempted-ski-pole-through-eye incident on Monday & eye docs Tuesday, so Wednesday was supposed to be a fun day: walking Humane Society dogs. So I went to the local chapter, in a brand-new building, and walked the 1st dog absolutely fine. The 2nd dog I took out went with me to a small field, where he found some trash paper that he started gnawing on. So I pulled him away, and when he'd been out and about for a while, on the way back in I stopped to get the paper to throw it away. LIFE LESSON KIDS: papers in fields might be hiding MASSIVE amounts of fire-ants. Luckily mom was still in the parking lot & heard my yells. Very luckily, she carries Benadryl in her purse. 2 days later, my arm is beginning to look normal again.
So this morning I did something I've been looking forward to for many months. We drove back up to where I grew up, Asheville, to go to my high school, Carolina Day School. There, I delivered this speech to the senior class:
"Hi guys & gals. You're probably either glad I'm taking up some class time or you're mad I'm taking up your free time. Either way, it'll be less than 20 minutes, so tough it out. Whoops, PLEASE tough it out.
1st off, let me say that I know my ability to speak clearly isn't fully back yet, so I'm going to try and slow down. I've come from a coma to bring this message to you and the brain injury that caused the coma is affecting my speech.
My name is Jeff Knox. I went to school here, from 6th grade in '91 to 12th grade in '97. For those of you doing the math, yes, I am that old. I had some of the same teachers, and Mama Gouge was ours as well. Well, I didn't go to school HERE... this building didn't exist way back in my prehistoric day. What is now your middle school is where I went to high school.
I'm here to talk to you about prom night specifically, but the lesson applies anytime. So the big dance of the year is coming up-- prom. Maybe you're gonna go, maybe you're not. The young adults who do go may want a little more partying before or afterward, or just decide the only way this can even BE fun is to not be totally sober while they're at the function. The young adults who don't go may decide a dance with a bottle of something is the best prom date anyone could ever have.
So I'm talking about alcohol. True, none of y'all are of legal age to buy it or drink it, but does that stop you? Did it stop us? I can only assume it didn't since I don't remember. I'm not here to be the policeman saying "Don't drink alcohol, o ye not of age." I'm also, for the record, not in any way encouraging it's use, and you can take that to the principal. I'm just going to make a wild and crazy assumption that someone here is going to consume alcohol. It may be prom night, it may be 30 years from now. I'm not here to say alcohol's bad and you will immediately die from consumption. I've done it. I'm also not saying it's good. It is what it is.
What I am here to say is that IF YOU DO drink even some alcohol, or even know of someone who does, alright, so you or them is on the way to being drunk. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you even consider letting someone who's had alcohol drive a car, be it you or somebody else. Even if the person only had a bare smidgen of alcohol, this applies. I'm willing to bet that a jail cell isn't as fun as being at prom night, or at home, or heck, as fun as spending the night at CDS.
Now let me tell you why I feel so strongly against drunk driving. In May of '07, I was out at a bar with one of my roommates and some poker buddies. Lo and behold, my roommate got drunk beyond belief. Now, the problem was, she had driven herself to the bar after work. So she rode back to our house that night in my car. I would not have driven if I'd had any alcoholic drinks.
Okay, I have no memory of what happened next, so I'll stick to the facts that I've learned since. We hadn't been home from the bar long at all when my roommate decided she wanted to go somewhere. It was about 1 in the morning. I was inside the house and next thing I know, I heard a pickup truck starting in the driveway-- her boyfriend had left his truck there. I knew for a fact that she was drunk, so I stepped out front to see what was going on. She had decided to go somewhere else-- probably another bar, but we'll never know. She was in the truck's driver's seat when I went to the side of the truck and I opened the door and tried to talk her out of drunk driving. I didn't notice that she had already shifted the gear into "reverse."
So as I was talking to her, her foot drunkenly slipped from it's resting place and slammed down onto the gas pedal. Since the truck was in reverse gear, the truck went flying backwards. Remember the part of this story where I said I stood beside the open car door talking her out of driving? The door knocked me down so hard onto the ground that the skull impact immediately started a 5-week coma where the doctors told my parents that I had a 90% chance of dying. The wreck caused a collapsed lung, multiple facial fractures, including a broken jaw, broken cheek, broken eye socket & damage to my right eye. That skull fracture caused a Traumatic Brain Injury. The Traumatic Brain Injury caused speech problems & double vision & memory problems so severe that I don't remember much from my 27 years before the wreck happened. Imagine going off to college, then living on your own for 10 YEARS-- you might like your parents but it would be so sweet to not live there-- and then going back to being dependent on your parents.
But I am here now, luck of all luck! Therapy's not over, and it's been almost 2 years! I have had countless numbers of speech, arm strength, and physical therapists, among others. I had to re-learn how to walk. I didn't know how old I was-- I thought I was over 100. I didn't even know who my parents were. I've forgotten most things I learned in college-- and I studied computer science in school and had a job as a computer programmer, and how much of that do you think I remember? VERY LITTLE. Even basic math, like division, that I learned here, I had to re-learn. I haven't gotten my driver's license back yet. This is the first time in my life I've worn glasses.
So now you know why I want you to think about this. If you drive drunk, you're risking jail-time and worse. How much worse? My freshman college roommate Greg was only my roommate for about 3 months. Then he was driving around town with some friends when a drunk driver hit their car head-on. Greg's body broke through a seat-belt and he slammed his forehead into the windshield. He went immediately into a coma that lasted for months. I visited his house in 2008. Well, his parents' house-- he is not able to live alone. And he requires a personal assistant. His personal assistant has to help Greg use the bathroom. And this has been going on now for 10 years.
So what's the moral of this story? It is not to never have alcohol. When you're of age, have some responsibly if you wish, and I do emphasize RESPONSIBLY. All I need for you to take from this is that you'll NEVER combine alcohol and driving. My only motive in talking to you now is that I don't want what happened to Greg & I to happen to anyone else-- and I am just lucky to even be able to give this talk, many aren't. I am available for questions from y'all now but for private questions, I'll be around for a short while, and some teachers will know my email address, just ask around. There is no such thing as a bad question. Thank you for your time."
It went smoothly (whew) and was well received. So we'll never know, but let's just hope they were listening.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
recap
Yesterday:
My memory was so bad, I couldn't remember what the heck a "ski pole" is... then it hit me.
Today:
Went to my ophthalmologist. Now it's official that my EYE is no worse off than it already was. The blood was just from skin lacerations. WHEW. Close call. And today I realized that the skiing fall-on-the-pole wasn't at all related to my balance issues-- it was such a freak occurrence, it could have happened to anybody.
AND if you're ever down about things, I have the answer. Gelato. Today, I set the new record for number of flavors/scoops tried in one day. First I set it by trying three scoops of 3 different flavors. Then I broke it by going back for 2 new ones. You should Google if there's a gelato store in your town. 5 flavors of gelato today. So THAT'S what heaven looks like. I need to go to sle
My memory was so bad, I couldn't remember what the heck a "ski pole" is... then it hit me.
Today:
Went to my ophthalmologist. Now it's official that my EYE is no worse off than it already was. The blood was just from skin lacerations. WHEW. Close call. And today I realized that the skiing fall-on-the-pole wasn't at all related to my balance issues-- it was such a freak occurrence, it could have happened to anybody.
AND if you're ever down about things, I have the answer. Gelato. Today, I set the new record for number of flavors/scoops tried in one day. First I set it by trying three scoops of 3 different flavors. Then I broke it by going back for 2 new ones. You should Google if there's a gelato store in your town. 5 flavors of gelato today. So THAT'S what heaven looks like. I need to go to sle
Monday, March 9, 2009
ah, forgot to say this
You might think you know what the GREATEST THING EVER is... ha. Emphasis is on the word "think." I do know, and mine's provable. You might say "hitting a home run to win the game" or any one of a million things that you THINK are so good. Ha. Laughable. All subjective, not objective.
And now... ladies and gentlemen... drum roll please... IT'S... tiki tiki ta ta... KNOWN... tiki tiki ta ta... AS... tiki tiki ta ta... Lidocaine. Sweet nectar of the gods. Roman gods, not the Greek pansies. When the eye doc was putting in stitches, I asked "So are you about to puncture me with a needle?" His answer: "I already have." SWEEEEEET.
And now... ladies and gentlemen... drum roll please... IT'S... tiki tiki ta ta... KNOWN... tiki tiki ta ta... AS... tiki tiki ta ta... Lidocaine. Sweet nectar of the gods. Roman gods, not the Greek pansies. When the eye doc was putting in stitches, I asked "So are you about to puncture me with a needle?" His answer: "I already have." SWEEEEEET.
skiing... part 2 ("Ski Patrol")
So less than a week later, we headed back up there to hit the slopes. (and I do mean "hit") I was encouraged by my end-of-day successes last time. So we get our boots, skis & poles and head to the start of the bunny slope to put them on. Left toes in, check, left heel, check. Right toes, fall. Wait a minute, who wrote this script? This isn't what I read in the test-screening. Overall, no big deal, we started skiing.
So to get the feel back, we started down the GENTLY sloping field they call the bunny slope. Two runs down it & I was feeling in good enough form to move up to the Beginner slope. First half went fine, I was working on going from fast to slow and back again. Fine, fine. THEN I went to turn right & started to fall. Whoops, so I planted my right ski pole in the snow ahead & to the right. That placement WOULD'VE been fine... except that's right where I was falling. The handle-side of the pole went up under my ski goggles and glasses & pretty much did a number on my right eye (the already-injured one). There were no mirrors around, so I couldn't know that I was gushing blood like Old Faithful. All I could feel was INTENSE pain.
My folks were right behind me, and many kind folks asked what they could do as I lay there writhing around. What they did was get Ski Patrol. Thanks! (And while Ski Patrol Steph was laboring over my face, her lips were so close to mine & she was so cute... the "This magic moment, when your lips are close to mine..." song from the pool scene of The Sandlot kept playing through my mind... but I needed help, no time for kissy-kissy) So THAT'S what it's like to take a ride down in one of their sleds. At the Ski Patrol headquarters, the cuts got mopped up a bit, and they recommended an eye doc nearby & an Urgent Care center for a tetanus shot. (where I don't think they know the definition of "urgent")
So we went to the eye doc, who already knew we were on the way. I gotta tell ya, it's not real inspiring to hear him mutter as he examines your eye "I don't know if that's a new or old injury", since that eye already has severe damage from the wreck.
Overall, we think now it was just skin cuts. The bone structure around the eye kept the pole from going IN or THROUGH the eye-- whew. And it may be because I've been mostly keeping ice on it, but no pain since the initial kill-me-now pangs.
So I'm thinking Prone might make a good new nickname, short for accident-prone. And if anybody remarks about my black eye, I'll just say "This ain't nothin' compared to what I did to the other guy."
So to get the feel back, we started down the GENTLY sloping field they call the bunny slope. Two runs down it & I was feeling in good enough form to move up to the Beginner slope. First half went fine, I was working on going from fast to slow and back again. Fine, fine. THEN I went to turn right & started to fall. Whoops, so I planted my right ski pole in the snow ahead & to the right. That placement WOULD'VE been fine... except that's right where I was falling. The handle-side of the pole went up under my ski goggles and glasses & pretty much did a number on my right eye (the already-injured one). There were no mirrors around, so I couldn't know that I was gushing blood like Old Faithful. All I could feel was INTENSE pain.
My folks were right behind me, and many kind folks asked what they could do as I lay there writhing around. What they did was get Ski Patrol. Thanks! (And while Ski Patrol Steph was laboring over my face, her lips were so close to mine & she was so cute... the "This magic moment, when your lips are close to mine..." song from the pool scene of The Sandlot kept playing through my mind... but I needed help, no time for kissy-kissy) So THAT'S what it's like to take a ride down in one of their sleds. At the Ski Patrol headquarters, the cuts got mopped up a bit, and they recommended an eye doc nearby & an Urgent Care center for a tetanus shot. (where I don't think they know the definition of "urgent")
So we went to the eye doc, who already knew we were on the way. I gotta tell ya, it's not real inspiring to hear him mutter as he examines your eye "I don't know if that's a new or old injury", since that eye already has severe damage from the wreck.
Overall, we think now it was just skin cuts. The bone structure around the eye kept the pole from going IN or THROUGH the eye-- whew. And it may be because I've been mostly keeping ice on it, but no pain since the initial kill-me-now pangs.
So I'm thinking Prone might make a good new nickname, short for accident-prone. And if anybody remarks about my black eye, I'll just say "This ain't nothin' compared to what I did to the other guy."
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
me vs. a mountainful of snow
Wow. We just got back from a full day in Maggie Valley, NC at Cataloochie Ski Resort. Yes, I skied. Yes, I was horrid. BUT, yes I got much better. Now I haven't skied in YEARS. And yes, they're writing a 3-part mini-series about my balance issues (with Catherine Zeta-Jones & Brad Pitt). So why not? I found out why not. I had a choice of the Beginner Slope or the Bunny Slope (really more of a field that KINDA slanted down)-- so having been a skier before the wreck, I chose the Beginner Slope. Whoops. Yeah, I fell... a FEW times (I counted, it was every 4.2 microseconds). And each fall was about 20 minutes of wrestling with my skis & boots to get back upright. And EVERY... SINGLE... TIME I would require help from a parent (or twice, friendly bypassers) to get back on my feet. There was MUCH wailing & gnashing of teeth. So first things first-- remove the 840 pounds of thick warm-- nay, hot-- protective clothing. I was getting so much of a heat stroke I had to just sit in the car for a while. Perhaps that's why I downed 2 whole bottles of water on top of a Coke.
So I moved to the Bunny Slope next. Still falling about 2-3 times per run and each taking FOR. EV. ER. and the help of others to fix. (Oh yeah, try as hard as I might, I couldn't loosen one of my own boots from the ski) Finally I had to go sit down while mom and dad got their ski legs back at their own pace. (Not getting to sleep last night until 3 AM didn't help either-- what, I was trying)
When I got to the bottom, I told mom & dad "I'd be happy if I never ski again in my life... ... ... except just one more." Might as well go out on a bang... so I went back to the Beginner Slope. And FOR THE FIRST TIME made it the whole way down wihout falling. And again the next time down. And again the next time down. Lesson learned.
Now walking back to the car after turning in the rentals, I learned a truth of the Universe: there's no difference between ski legs and sea legs.
So I moved to the Bunny Slope next. Still falling about 2-3 times per run and each taking FOR. EV. ER. and the help of others to fix. (Oh yeah, try as hard as I might, I couldn't loosen one of my own boots from the ski) Finally I had to go sit down while mom and dad got their ski legs back at their own pace. (Not getting to sleep last night until 3 AM didn't help either-- what, I was trying)
When I got to the bottom, I told mom & dad "I'd be happy if I never ski again in my life... ... ... except just one more." Might as well go out on a bang... so I went back to the Beginner Slope. And FOR THE FIRST TIME made it the whole way down wihout falling. And again the next time down. And again the next time down. Lesson learned.
Now walking back to the car after turning in the rentals, I learned a truth of the Universe: there's no difference between ski legs and sea legs.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
you know you're doing taxes in SC when...
So my dad & I just finished doing the ol' taxes. (Pretty easy: taxable income for 2008: $0.) But at the top of the first form, it has these fields to fill in: "Print Your first name and Initial:_______" followed by "Check if Deceased (checkbox)". Now HOW are you gonna Print YOUR name if you're Deceased? And keep The crazy Baboon from The zoo Off the Caps lock Key while You're typing Or we Won't have Zoo animals At the Office day Anymore!
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In between Q & S is Arrr!
My pirate name is:
Captain Jack Kidd
Even though there's no legal rank on a pirate ship, everyone recognizes you're the one in charge. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!
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